


For Just A Little More, Could You Walk With Me

by LucyWest



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Caspar plays it LOL, Crushes, First Love, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Overwatch - Freeform, Pining, Unrequited Crush, not rlly caspar likes him back but u dont know that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28001088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyWest/pseuds/LucyWest
Summary: Linhardt laments on a crush that shouldn't be.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Kudos: 24





	For Just A Little More, Could You Walk With Me

“AAH yeah!” A pause, and Linhardt could only assume his companion was punching the air. “Protect the pig! New meta!!” Caspar shouted, Lin’s heart going out for the teammates on the other side of the mic. 

The idea was stupid. An open queue game with all healers and one Hog shouldn’t have been working as well as it had been, Caspars’ team steamrolling the opposing side. Linhardt was laid on his best friend's bed, laptop tucked under his arm as he attempted to take a nap. Years of this familiar routine had taught him how to sleep through the noise, but currently, his mind refused to be lulled.

He always ends up overwhelmed by the presence of his friend, though.

An eye languidly opened while listening to Caspar ramble after yet again another victory, hands dancing in the air as he retold the amazing deeds he’d accomplished as Roadhog. Unrestrained enthusiasm played on the brute’s face, blue hair more chaotic with Caspar’s hands constantly coming to rake through it. 

He always left his bedroom windows open, and right now they were letting the summer wind in. The gentle breeze playing a reminder that the days until school started again were numbered. The summer may be ending, but Linhardt knew that didn’t mean anything to the days he and Caspar spend together. The trips to 7/11 would fade into the library and the all night-anime binges would simply turn to study sessions. 

Well, studying on Linhart’s half at least. 

He rested his hand over his eyes, blocking out the setting sun. Technically, that's his cue to leave. School was starting too soon to be cleared for a third sleepover, and asking would just invite an argument. But going home alone didn’t sound pleasing either, not after the lazy day he and Caspar just had.

Leaving a friend’s house always makes you hyper aware of how much you love them.

  
“ _Love_ ”. The word to Linhardt felt like a deep purple, a longing for a gift he knows his high school years won’t allow him. The rumors never bothered him, truly. He’d simply turn down all confessions from his peers, their gaggle of friends hooting that _Linhardt’s into dudes._

It was his job not to care, for if he truthfully took the taunts to heart, Linhardt would end up wasting even more energy convincing Caspar that it's not okay to get suspended for fighting on his behalf. Caspar has already pushed his luck once. 

Overthinking stopped when he felt a finger to his temple, a flick to the forehead by the boy on the ground.

“C’mon, are you tunin’ me out again Lin?” Linhardt was tuning him out, and in that time Casper crossed the room to kneel in front of the bed. His eyebrows are knit together and his lips are pulled into a pout, but the tone is more whiny than actually upset. It vaguely reminds Linhardt of a puppy who was just asked to get off the couch. 

Fleeting daylight hits his face, narrowing Caspar’s pupils and making the cold blue irises stand out more. His eyes were large and doe-like, contrary to the rough and tough act he knows Caspar tries to put on. It was one of the most endearing things to Linhardt, how open the teen was without even needing to speak. 

Speak.

“Of course not.” Linhardt almost forgot he was supposed to respond. “A Roadhog one-trick of your caliber has _so much wisdom_ to bestow onto me, after all.” He flicked the hand that once was resting on his head into the air, dust following the current. Casper huffed at him, and Linhardt could feel some of his own hair come to tickle the underside of his chin. 

“Says the Mercy main.” Linhardt could _hear_ the eye roll, something he’s confident his friend only started doing after they got close. “I don’t remember the last time I saw _you_ get Play of the Game”. 

The conversation could go on from here, Linhardt bringing up how Casper throws because he thinks it’s funny. Instead, he let out a yawn and his hand dropped to his chest, staring directly at the ceiling. The sun was lowering fast now, and if he stayed too much longer he would have to ask Caspar’s father to take him home. He didn’t feel like packing his laptop into his bag, or the depressing emptiness of walking home. 

Linhardt turned his gaze back to Caspar, who was still looking at him. Staring, at this point. They stayed like that for a moment, Lin basking in the others’ comfortable gaze. 

In the novels, this is when Linhardt would put his hand on Caspar’s cheek, while Caspar leans in for a soft kiss. Or where Linhardt blurts out a love confession, and his companion smiles while he states that he does back. 

Instead, Caspar pushed himself to his feet.  
“I’m going to jump on for one last game.” It was softly spoken, and Linhardt refused to allow himself to look into that. They both knew Linhardt needed to leave soon, but blurting it out just feels wrong. 

Linhardt doesn’t want to leave. 

He turned to his side, watching as Caspar made his way to his chair and flopped in it, immediately crossing his legs under himself. He tended to move with no grace, as if no one was watching him at any time. Linhardt never understood that, how Casper could assume all eyes weren’t on him at any time. 

It hits Linhardt now and then, how foolish it is to be in love with your best friend. He hated reading the boring cliche already, but fate has doomed him it seems, to live it out. 

Being in love, and even now he’s still trying to digest the word, wasn’t something Linhardt had even seen himself doing. It was supposed to be a foolish emotion, being able to put anyone in front of your own thoughts. Casper seemed to live in his head lately, and it both infatuated and infuriated him. 

There was a vulnerability between the two. Linhardt has never believed that a man shouldn't cry, but he’s never taken his father's teachings to heart. Caspar, even with his bleeding heart, was doomed to internalize the gross words of a man raised in different times. 

His heart hurts, as does my leg when you kick it, when Caspar doesn’t care about these inner teachings, when sitting outside being eaten alive by mosquitoes while your best friend is sobbing on your shoulder. When all he can do is wipe Caspar’s crystal tears and whisper how sorry he is, because even with all the progression, society hasn’t yet taught boys how to deal with emotions. 

Later Casper taught Linhardt to put X’s over the bites, but they still itch the morning after.

A crow cawing outside snapped him from his woe’s, the sun now setting the room ablaze in a last-ditch reminder of the time. He should be locating his items, no doubtably sprawled all across Caspar’s house. It was too much energy, he yawned, moving his head to untie the neat ribbon set behind. 

Caspar must have left his group, as only the sounds of the controller being jammed filled the room. He focused on that as he drifted, pulling the blankets up as the smell of his friend enveloped him. 

Linhardt shut his eyes, knowing that the two minute rest he would be getting isn't worth it, but Caspers bed seemed to be a curse of drowsiness. He much preferred his own, as does Caspar who’s stated several times during this argument, But his best friend's bed, clad in a rocket-ship sheet and mismatched pillows, had a warmth to it that Linhardt cannot express in words. 

He lived for moments like this. As love-struck as Linhardt was with Caspar’s normally vibrant personality, moments where they both just _existed_ together always made his heart pound the most. 

But he almost felt guilt at that statement. It wouldn’t do well for him to think like that. Linhardt isn’t someone that is necessarily shy when it comes to how he feels, but matters of the heart are unexplored territory for him. He hasn't yet gotten the opportunity to study why he likes Caspar so much, as it always ends up conjuring images of how it would be to freely hold his best friend’s hand. 

The bed groaned as more weight was being pressed into it. Linhardt could feel the bed dip as Caspar climbed into it, and almost peeked an eye open when he felt the other flop right beside him. Linhardt was shocked, not at Caspar’s seemingly impulsive moves, but at the fact that he just aches to be able to curl closer to his companion. 

How such a simple move seems impossible to do.

Caspar wouldn't recognize how hard that would be for Lin, what it would mean in an attempt to physically open up. It’s almost as if he’s making a point to not be affectionate with Linhardt. It pulls his heart, because Caspar himself is showing Linhardt how much he cares by not manhandling him, yet it just makes him hurt over how he wishes to own those small slices of intimacy. 

More rustling opened his eyes, Capar looking at Linhardt through hooded eyes. Nobody approached the topic of Lin leaving, and the sun seemed to have given up on gently persuading the two, the summer light replaced with the moon's cool gaze. 

Linhardt flexed his fingers for a moment, forcing himself to place a hand in between the two. It was facedown, and in his dreams, Linhardt would feel Caspar’s cold touch atop it. He brought his gaze down, his hand being the only cry for touch he could put forward. 

“Caspar?”

Lin couldn’t even feel his mouth moving.

“Yeah?”

“‘I’m lonely.”

**Author's Note:**

> i actually wrote this for my ex gf and ive been editing it longer than we were together LOL.


End file.
